


We've Been Standing Still for Far too Long

by decomposing_brain



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Dauntless Faction, Inspired by Divergent, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve's parents suck but what else is new, Tommy is the wORST
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24574636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decomposing_brain/pseuds/decomposing_brain
Summary: Tom and Isabelle Harrington were intelligent and presentable. They kept a tidy house and followed the rules and threw the best dinner parties on the block, not to mention their very charitable donations to every well known business around. So, it was safe to say that when news came that Isabelle Harrington was expecting, the entire faction was waiting with baited breath for their generation's next genius to pop out. And at first that was what it had seemed like. Steve was quiet and charming with huge brown eyes that made every mother melt. But then things started to happen. He would forget what a word meant, or get into fights, or sleep in, or give away his food; all things Erudite's just didn't do.Over the years, Steve Harrington grew into somebody no one expected. And while he spent his life trying to fit in where he didn't belong, wondering what he had gotten wrong, all it really took for things to make sense was for someone, someplace to accept him as he is.He was never cut out to be an Erudite, but he was cut out to cause a rebellion.OrBasically a Divergent AU where Steve is kinda like Tris and Billy is kinda like Four except meaner.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

The funny thing about him was that most of the time he felt stupid. He felt stupid taking tests, and counting numbers and remembering important dates. He felt stupid writing essays or letters. He felt stupid when he wore the damn tortise shell glasses his parents had given him.

Steve had alwasy felt stupid in a place where being stupid wasn’t permitted. So he shut his mouth that always spoke without thinking, hiked his glasses up the bridge of his nose and nodded whenever it looked appropriate. The only thing he seemed to be able to learn to do was fake an absence of his own dimwittedness. After all, it would have likely been an impressively sizable embarrassment for his parents if their only son couldn’t spell the word ‘tomorrow’.

In the Erudite faction Steve had been a silent presence. He was never able to rattle off the periodic table or patent some new design that did something five other innovations already did. It was rare that his hands touched a book and finished it; comprehended it. More often than not a note was shoved in the last quarter of the pages, while not a single page had been read, a marker of deceit. He was an anomaly there, and although he could put up an act it was strikingly apparent in his own mind. Erudite’s were orderly, intelligent, and powerful. They sure as hell weren’t Steve.

When he woke up that morning the first thing he saw was the books on his nightstand; crisp and unused. The alarm next to him read 6 AM and all across his faction kids were rising from their beds. He had never been a morning person and if that wasn’t yet another indicator at how much of a misfit he was, he didn’t know what was.

He scrubbed at his eyes, taking the edge off of the blur in his vision before clumsily grabbing at the glasses adjacent to him and shoving them on his face. They were fake, used only for appearances, but sometimes he thought they helped hide the confusion in his eyes. It always paid to look the part.

The importance of appearance was something that had been beaten into him with harsh words and stinging glares. 

His father looked at him with vague disdain as he walked down the stairs, picking at the shade of blue in his shirt while his mother hurried to tuck it in. She brushed her fluttering hands around his face, his hair, fixed the glasses on his nose, and sharply looked his form up and down. Seemingly satisfied she returned to the stove. His father continued to stare at him.

“How are you feeling today Steven?” The pan in front of her screamed as she spoke and she hurried to turn the heat down.

He shifted uneasily on his feet. It wasn’t often that his parents were home, and when they were it was usually silent glances over the rim of a book. He could do the cold, unapproachable parents. He wasn’t so sure he could do anything else.

“Nervous.” He said, hands deep in the pockets of his pressed khakis. His father cleared his throat, and as if he had finally decided that his calendar was more important than criticizing his only son, turned his gaze away from Steve. He would only have to dislike him for one more day anyways.

“Well, I wouldn’t be.” His mother chirped. She dealt out three plates of eggs onto the kitchen table. The tension in the room made it hard for Steve to breath. “Everyone does it. I was hardly nervous myself, you’re father and I had always known we were Erudite through and through.” Steve coughed. His father shoved a piece of food into his mouth.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sure that you’ll do well. There’s not much we haven’t tried to teach you.” She said, and although he knew she always meant well, the only barrier between Steve’s hurt feelings and his dad, he ran cold at her words. Steve wanted to remind them of how absent they always were, how they had given up on Steve long before his life had even started. Apparently, despite their early resignation on raising him, a job you technically couldn’t retire from, they had tried to teach him everything. He was just too stupid to get it.

The rest of breakfast was silent, freed only by the disturbing scrape of a fork against the plateau of their plates.

It was stifling here. Almost as choking as the starchy linen collar around his neck. He couldn’t move in Erudite no matter how extensive their building plans were. He had been waiting almost sixteen years to get lost in the world outside him, to forget about the papers on his desk that he couldn’t understand and breathe.

For the first time that morning, as Steve’s mother stood up to respond to the dishes calling from the sink, his father spoke, “you’ll finally be where you belong.”

His mother put a pan she had just picked up down, a hint of concern in her eyes at her husband's words, soap steadily rising from the drain, while his father's calculated stare return. They all knew what he really meant. 'You’ll finally be somewhere else'. The stone mask over his father’s face withered from contempt to relief. He crossed off the day's date on his calendar.

In two hours Steve would be taking the aptitude test. He would receive his results that echoed his father’s words. His mother would only have to clean one extra table setting for dinner that night. His father would put his feet up on the couch where Steve usually sat and be happy that he had some extra room. Steve knew most members in the household had been just as ready for this day to come as he was.

Steve put his plate in the sink. His father finished his eggs, while his mother sighed. He looked at his home, it’s bare walls that held their three person family captive in regret and embarrassment and wanted to rip up the book in his father's hand. Instead, Steve pinched his glasses into place, turned, and walked out of their front door for the last time.

It had always been faction before blood in his family anyways.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finds out that his life isn't all its cracked up to be. The aptitude test begins just as quickly as it ends.

The cars that the Erudite faction used felt stiff to Steve. They were too pristine, too hightech. They reminded him of knives on a cutting board, roaming through the fields and leaving trailmarks behind while the other factions scrambled to keep up. Steve just knew that it was something Erudite used to prove they were better than everyone.

After the world had practically collapsed in on itself, the Erudite faction refused to change. They wouldn’t stoop to the lowly level of train hopping or automobiles without air conditioning. The use of technology let them speed past as Amity rumbled behind on rickety buses, and the Abnegation walked. The Erudite faction hadn’t adapted to this new life, if anything life itself had adapted to the Erudite agenda.

It was this same type of attitude that ran their idealistic system of perfectionism. If one thing was wrong or unnatural in their faction, the whole system was broken. Steve thought that was probably why they had the choosing ceremonies. To weed out the unnatural.

Somehow Steve had grown up in Erudite, and because of that he was now sitting in the back seat of an Erudite car with a clusterfuck of arrogant assholes. In the beginning Steve had played the arrogant asshole part well. Really well.

Tommy, an ex best friend who was too stubborn to accept the ‘ex’ yet, was hurling wadded up pieces of paper at a girl who had her tits pushed up, a smudge of red lipstick taking away from her ‘professional’ looking pencil skirt that was a smidge too short. The whole thing reeked of a porno gone wrong.

“Bet you 5$ I can get it in there.” Tommy glanced at Ringo, the boy who was undoubtedly the reason the car smelled a little bit like cheese, with a feral grin on his face and a pointed look at her boobs.

On the occasion that Tommy’s aim would come within the general vicinity of the girl she would crane her head around, wink and giggle a fakely saccharine, “Tommy stoppp,” then she would bat her tiny blue eyes at him and he would continue. It was hard for Steve to contain his own huff of disbelieving laughter. 

The thing is that Tommy and Steve used to be close. When Steve was little he would go over to Tommy’s and escape from the claustrophobic feeling of his own home.It was a place where he finally felt in control, like he could be better than someone. He was weightless at Tommy’s. He won’t hesitate to admit that it was some weird form of a power play. You don’t have the father Steve has without a little bit of childhood cruelty.

He had somehow become a leader for the freckle faced boy who had always been a bit too chubby and a bit too awkward. Tommy was much more of a follower, always had someone telling him what to do, while Steve’s only saving grace was his charming smile and eyes full of boyish mischief. So, Tommy had teetered around behind Steve like a lost puppy as Steve played king. For a few years being friends with Tommy was as good as freedom.

It was only when he met Nancy that he jolted out of that strange friendship. She was all smiles and light touches and a sweet voice. She was everything that his parents weren’t, that people in Erudite weren’t. He fell into bliss without the angular trap of severity that his faction tended to guide people into.

He thinks she mostly liked the danger of it. Sure Steve could rely on his good looks, but his sparkling personality? Probably not what had initially drawn her in. He was cute and nice. He paid attention to her, and above all else he was from Erudite, while she was from Amity.

Being in two different factions tended to complicate things, but it gave them the seductive thrill of a secret.

At first they made it work by stealing kisses while loading food trucks and passing cars through the fields. She looked beautiful with the backdrop of the flowers behind her. He always thought that Amity fit her well.

After a couple of months things started to get more real, more tangible. He fell hard and he fell fast. His favorite nights were when he was able to spend hours talking to her, teasing her with that playboy attitude of his. They would sneak out and meet behind the windmills, pale moonlight tinkering above them like a guard keeping watch for invaders. The threat of something that shouldn’t be happening lingered in the air above them before it would dissipate into the night. Things like getting caught didn’t matter when they were happy.

And then, Tommy found out. He saw Steve and Nancy sharing a peach between the drop off points. A quiet touch from Steve on her lower back and Tommy was pouncing, ripping Steve apart. Maybe it was the jealousy of Steve’s metaphorical crown, or the idea that someone else finally made Steve feel light on his toes that made Tommy snap. 

“This is bullshit.” Tommy had spat, looking at Nancy like she was dirt on his shoe. And then he turned that look on Steve. Steve who was supposed to be smart and perfect and pristine. Steve who was plaguing his image with this sweet little blemish of a girl. Steve who was in all reality the most bullshit Erudite there ever was. 

Either way it had felt like Tommy had been waiting for Steve to slip, to dismantle the king when everyone around them knew that Tommy was far from fit to be a leader.

Steve liked to think he was fearless, but when the threats from Tommy got to be too much he watched as they pushed her to the ground, as they pulled apart buckets of food that her faction had spent hours collecting. He was frozen in place as the only thing he had come close to falling in love with started looking at him the same way Tommy did. The time afterwards that Steve spent cleaning up the mess they made did nothing to help the knife he left in her back. She left with harsh words and fire, and bullshit. It had started to become a pattern for Steve to disappoint people. 

After everything with Nancy and the word bullshit being thrown around way too much, hitting him where it really hurts, he had enough. He stopped hanging around with Tommy. He shut up and let them grow into the people he had spent his childhood trying to please, but became the exact opposite. From then on Steve vowed to be fearless, to be kind, to be better. He had always figured if Tommy actually knew a damn thing about Steve he would hate him just as much as his parents did.

When the bus finally rumbled to a stop and Tommy had finally gotten the girl to dangle her tits over the back of the seat the tension started to get to Steve. He was sure his test results weren’t going to show Erudite, something he had known since he was about ten, but the thought that this one moment would decide what the rest of his life looked like made him run cold. This had everything riding on it. Outside a group of Dauntless boys threw a few rocks at the car he was in as the guards tried to form some semblance of control. The world around him was and had always been oblivious to his inner turmoil. 

It was a short process to get out of the car but a seemingly long one to actually take the test. They briefed the arriving groups quickly before escorting them to a large expanse of bare field behind the testing rooms. Five lines ran from each pale colored brick wall, badged civilians who looked like they would rather be anywhere but there monotonously reading off names on a list. 

The shocking contrast between factions was apparent as Steve was directed towards the members of Erudite that had arrived in previous cars. Not only was each line dressed in different colors, but the Erudite kids were, for lack of a better word cleaner. Each kid's hair was neatly pinned or gelled back, shirts tucked in, standing with their shoulders straight to call attention to their importance. The other factions were sweaty, gleaming in the sun with their bare arms and legs as they let themselves revel in the spirit of the event that would give them new life, that would rebirth them. The others looked excited, while those in Erudite just looked bored. 

Steve took his place in the back of the line, unfortunately still bearing witness to Tommy, the blue eyed girl and his goons as they pushed themselves in front of him. A woman with a badge and greying hair called a name that seemed vaguely familiar off of the first sheet of paper in her hands, and the line inched forward. Steve sighed. This was going to take a fucking while. 

An hour in and Steve hadn’t done much of anything. He was sweating under his starchy blue linen collar, itchy from the waist up. Tommy was close by still flirting with the girl, and had somehow gotten a hand around her shoulder, while Ringo awkwardly watched him with his mouth so far open Steve was worried he wasn’t getting enough air in his lungs. 

It seemed like others had suddenly become just as fed up by the languid movement of the entire process as Steve was and all at once the droning quiet was broken by a call from the Dauntless line, “Didn’t know you guys liked having so much fun!” Steve whipped his head around to see a short red haired girl smirking pointedly at the place where Tommy was now caught sneaking a hand underneath the blonde’s bra. The red head was wearing black from head to toe, adorned with a piercing underneath her nose, and a very apparent ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude. She waggled her tongue at Tommy who was currently turning an ugly pink. This couldn’t be good.

“What’d you say bitch?” Tommy glared. And wow, If there was one thing that could make a situation into a sticky one it was a Dauntless addressing an Erudite when they didn’t need to or vice versa. There was some long held grudge between the two; Erudite was too important to be tainted by the dirt on Dauntless shoes, and Dauntless with its casual attire and risque attitude thought Erudite was a group of entitled pricks. Steve couldn’t help but agree with Dauntless on most accounts.

The girl laughed and it dripped with pure sarcasm.

“C’mon dude, did you think you were gonna be able to feel some girl up in the middle of literally fucking everyone?” Which fair point, Steve considered. There was only so far entitlement and narcissism could get you before you got called out. “I mean honestly you assholes think you can get away with anything.” 

“Can’t mind your own fucking business can you? Fucking junkie.” Tommy said, spitting a little as he spoke. Steve cautioned a look towards the older woman far ahead of them who was still zoned out on the sheet of paper, unaware of the development in line. 

“It’s a public place man, keep it in your pants.” The girl stepped forward, coiled dangerously like a snake, before turning to the bimbo Tommy had been groping. “You could do so much better.” She laughed again, sharp and jarring like bells, as blue eyes took a couple steps away from Tommy. Steve found himself enchanted by the Dauntless stranger, some sort of magnetic pull resonating in her blunt unwillingness to back down and indignance at Tommy’s chauvinistic male attitude. “This freckle faced fuck, really?” 

Steve couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. Usually he was a bystander, but sometimes the world just didn’t like to let him get away with being apathetic. 

“You think it’s funny Harrington?” Tommy sneered attention now turned to Steve, as Ringo folded his arms behind Tommy in a stance that Steve supposed was meant to seem menacing. Steve never did know how to think before he spoke.

“Well, I mean, she seems a lot smarter than a guy who prides himself on being smart.” He knew before he even finished the sentence that he had made a mistake. Although his words were calm and quite frankly he wasn’t even being all that rude, Tommy had a short fuse and would explode on Steve as soon as he got the chance. They had both always been eager to jump on each other's throats, even as kids when their parents would chalk it up to ‘boys being boys’. Steve had often felt restless, like he needed to blow off some steam, and getting a good hit in when he was too riled up from trying to read books he didn’t understand was as good as getting drunk. They liked to work each other up until one, or both of them had blood on their hands. So it came as no surprise to Steve that before he could even comprehend the look of approval the red head shot towards him he was on the ground with Tommy above him.

The next succession of events was blurry to say the least. Tommy got a hit in, and Steve retaliated. Vaguely, Steve recognized a test administrator calling out the next name in line and then for the grandest finale Steve had ever personally experienced, the redhead twisted her boot to show a glint of metal that was aimed directly at Tommy.

Tommy stilled, hand still on Steve's shirt, before bringing himself off of Steve, warily eyeing the girl. Leave it to Dauntless to have a kid bring a knife to the aptitude test. 

The woman at the door called out another name. At least Steve wasn’t bored anymore. 

When they finally made it to the front Steve’s lips were developing into a slightly swollen version of what they had been. The red head was still standing a steady distance away, knife tucked underneath her pant leg but the looming threat still there. Tommy had long since stopped flirting with the girl in front of him, instead opting for the sheepish but seething look of a scolded child. It wasn’t the first time Steve and Tommy had gotten into a physical fight and Steve was sure it wouldn’t be the last. He figured it was only fate that some way, somehow, he had ended up going in to take the aptitude test with dirt on his clothes because of Tommy. 

“Steve Harrington, Erudite.” The woman at the door called, not even looking up as she chewed on the pencil in her hand. He noticed the red haired girl eyeing the door as he pushed it open and walked into the room

The first thing he saw was the walls. All of them were white, lit by those shitty fluorescent bulbs, and it reminded Steve a little bit too much of his house with it’s cold, blank emptiness. A woman sat next to the chair Steve supposed was supposed to be his, mousy hair pulled behind her as wires and needles scattered the area. 

“Hi.” He said looking her in the eyes and noting the lines in her face that gave away her kindness.

“Hi Steve,” she smiled at him, looking down at his chart. “My name is Joyce, and I’m going to be giving you the aptitude test.” Joyce patted the seat in front of her calmly. “C’mon up here sweetie.” He obeyed, the leather of the chair feeling slick underneath his clammy palms. 

“Now. I’m going to put these on you. You might feel a little prick,” she picked up a handful of wires that bulked up at the ends, small pin prick needles sticking out. Steve braced himself as she quickly but gently attached them to his head. “These are going to record what your brain transmits” She explained, already busying herself in the corner of the room with an opaque vial, “and this,” she handed him the aforementioned container, the top of the liquid inside shuddered almost like someone was skipping rocks on its surface, “is what starts the test.” 

He took it from her and drank it in one pull, almost instantly feeling what seemed like the effects of a sedative.

“I’m sure you’ve already been informed but this test is going to determine what faction you belong to.” Her hands were delicate against his wrist as she took his pulse, “it can guide your decision at the choosing ceremony but your own opinions can outweigh it,” she recited the worlds like she was reading them from a book, “although I would advise against that.” By now she sounded far away, like she was across the room but he could still feel the warmth of her hand on his forearm. 

“What if I just know that I don’t belong somewhere?” His mouth felt dry, almost like he was sucking on cotton. He knew he was slurring.

“Well Steve, that’s the beauty of it,” She moved her head in close, oddly comforting in a maternal way Steve had never experienced, “No one really has to know.” She whispered. The room started to get fuzzy and in an instant his world turned black. He briefly remembers wondering how Joyce had gotten across the room to turn off the lights so quickly.

When the darkness finally subsided from his vision Steve found himself in a room that was almost identical to the one he had been in. This time there were no wires and no Joyce, and in her place stood a little girl. She was shorter and younger than him, probably around twelve with wispy blonde hair and eyes that looked purple in the fluorescence. In front of her was a bright red lever that stuck out of the ground. The white walls seemed brighter in contrast to its color. He didn’t know how long he had been unconscious. 

“Hi Steve.” The girl said, moving closer to him. He was perplexed. It wasn’t every day you found a strange girl roaming through the rooms of a government sanctioned building. It also wasn’t often that the aforementioned strange girl knew your name before you had even introduced yourself. Steve didn’t know what to do other than stay still and let her approach him, hesitantly leaning down to her height.

“Hi?” He said sticking out a hand which she took, her small fingers engulfed in Steve’s, and to be polite he tacked on, “what’s your name?” She quirked his head at him like she wasn’t used to the question and didn’t quite know what to say. He continued, “I’m Steve, but I guess you already know that.” The corners of her mouth threatened to tick up into a smile and Steve found himself grinning back at her. She was cute, in an ethereal sort of way, and at certain angles it looked like she was glowing. He honestly wasn’t sure if he was in a simulation-esque limbo universe or if the girl had actually walked into his room, but he assumed she was just as confused as he was. It couldn’t hurt to try and help her out. 

Steve was about to speak again when an alarm sounded behind him, red lights the same shade as the lever flooding the room.

In an instant the cherry smile fell from her face, her lips burning bright, dripping maroon to match Steve’s split lip as her mouth warped into a twisted smirk. Abruptly, the girl turned, pulling the lever as she went. A translucent barrier slammed down, separating the two, and the girl giggled wickedly. The abrupt change in the girls demeanor was frustratingly confusing. Worry started to bubble up at the base of his throat, and he was reminded of the way he felt when his father would yell too loud.

His attention was brought back to the girl as she spoke for just the second time, “look.” She was pointing behind Steve. As soon as that single word left her mouth every nerve ending in his body was pulled tight, the very distinct presence of something behind him filling him with that claustrophobic feeling he knew all too well to be called fear. He turned.

“Oh what the fuck.” Steve’s eyes widened. 

In the corner was a shadow, slowly expanding against the walls. Long stalks that looked almost like legs reached the length of the room and all the sound was being pulled towards the creature like some sort of magnetic energy. His ears popped before going numb and he could only feel the beat of the shadows labored breath. The room was freezing. Steve choked, caught in between the idea of fight or flight and he felt himself panicking. 

“Fuck.” He whipped around to face the barrier where the girl behind him was watching him with a terrifying grin. The red on her lips had been smeared somewhere to the right of him on the glass, the spot she must have pushed her face against to get a clearer vantage point. He brought a fist to the barrier, which remained still. 

“Fuck. Get me the fuck out of here.” He was practically crying by now, too overwhelmed by terror and confusion. 

If Steve had taken a moment to breath he would have been able to notice the unnatural looking mask hanging from the ceiling, just within arms reach, or the glass vial on the floor next to him. If he had calmed down maybe he would have been able to use the gas mask to wade through the shadows, or the glass vial to turn his own self into something with its own supernatural abilities, but with the shadow becoming all but the part of the room he was in and the little girl laughing maniacally behind him he could do nothing but wait for his body to decompose in the darkness. It was so fucking cold. 

Steve slid his body to the ground, wrapping an arm around his knees. He closed his eyes and thought of the redhead and her knife and how fearless she was. He thought of the test and Joyce and oddly enough he thought of his parents. He forgot about how cold the room was, realized it wasn’t actually ever that cold. This wasn’t really real. The shadow had never even been there. He opened his eyes. This wasn’t real. 

The room twisted in on itself and all at once he was outside in the very field he had stood in hours ago. Now, it was impressively empty, not even the buildings had been left standing. 

Steve squeezed his hands into a fist, making sure his body still worked and stood up.The panic behind his heartbeat barely gave him enough room to focus, and he was seeing double. He forced himself to relax, and took in his surroundings. 

On one side of him was a table, short and wooden with flowers growing from where the legs met the ground. On its surface rested a large butcher's knife. The handle was a rusted gold; it looked to Steve like it had been sitting there for far too long.

Not for the first time that day wondered what the fuck he had gotten himself into. 

Suddenly, the landscape in front of him shivered like a hologram would when touched and at once the girl from before appeared. This time she seemed smaller, more closed in on herself. Her mouth was dripping with blood, lips stained that same maroon color as before but now pooling at her feet. He took one hesitant step towards her giving heed to the memory of the terrifying grin she had pulled before throwing Steve to the wolves.

It was easy to extend a gentle touch toward the small girl with pain in her eyes; it was hard to forget the evil he had seen in her expression. He wouldn’t let anyone bleed out by themselves, no matter how much he hated them. 

Taking another step towards the girl, the scene from before began to replay itself. His hand was extended, palm up and open, attempting to show that he wasn’t a threat. The girl looked at him, blue iris meeting brown and with the same horrifying whisper, “look,” pointed behind Steve. 

He knew what he would find.

This time the girl looked terrified as the shadow approached them. There was no barrier she could hide behind now. He knew realistically that he could leave the girl behind and run. He could take his chances on his speed and let the shadow devour her as he tried to find safety. 

Out of the corner of his eye Steve saw the sunlight spark against the knife's golden handle. He thought of the redhead and her own concealed weapon. He looked back at the girl who was now kneeling, clutching her throat like it hurt to live and staring up at the shadow. Her eyes gave away her reluctant acceptance of death. All that was left was for Steve to run. He picked up the knife.

The girl was now watching Steve as he held the knife. It was a comfortable weight that felt at home in his grip. The rust cut into his fingers.

When Tommy punched him, Steve had revelled in that anger. There was a fire burning deep in his stomach that got too hot if it wasn’t satisfied. He was just the right amount of sweetness juxtaposed with rage. He felt the same way he had when he was on the pavement a fist reared back in heavy motion. 

Steve threw the knife. The girl sat, watching as the object was sent straight into the middle of the shadowy beast. 

With an aim that Steve never knew he had the hit drew a horrible retching sound from the unknown expanse of darkness. With a flicker and a dramatic exit that rivaled seismic waves, the shadow fell apart and the world started to close in on them. It was like watching someone fold a piece of paper, only you were on top of it. Who would have guessed that the thing that was going to be haunting him in future nightmares was what had been holding this world together.

He turned towards the girl. She looked just as scared as he felt. Her hands were smaller than Nancy’s. 

Before he could understand what he was doing he had put his body over the little girl, shielding her from the crumbling terrain. It was a stark contrast from the boil he had felt rise in his gut seconds ago when the knife had hit its target. Now all he felt was the tangy pull of relief and the call to protect. In that moment everything felt terrifyingly, overwhelmingly real.

Gasping Steve shot up in his seat. The lights were back on, and he could barely look around the room without squinting. It was dark where the angles of the room met. He was worried shadows would start spilling out of the corners. Joyce grabbed his shoulders. 

“You have to leave.” Joyce seemed frantic as she pulled the metal and wire away from his head. 

“What-” Steve looked around with wild eyes. He didn’t think this was normally how these things went. He was supposed to get his results. He was supposed to sit down and open a letter and read it and have time to adjust.

“Through the back door, don’t let anyone see you,”

“Wait wh-”

“You’ll go straight to the ceremony,” She ushered him to the side, pressed her hands into his back. “Don’t speak to anyone, don't look at anyone. You need to go.” The door was in front of him now, waiting to be opened. He pressed back against her hand.

“Why,” he spoke more forcefully now, “what’s happening,” Joyce bit her lip, “please.” He watched as she hesitated, then seemed to resign herself to the truth.

“Most people don’t do what you did Steve.” She said, trying but failing to keep a tone of worry out of her voice. 

“What… what does that mean?”

“Usually the test tells you which faction you belong to.” 

“... Right, that’s generally how these work,” Steve spoke slowly, like he was testing out the words before he said them. Something sour and heavy settled in the pit of his stomach.

“You Steve, are a match for more than one faction.” Joyce said hesitantly. Steve wasn’t sure he was comprehending her well. Maybe after everything he needed to get his hearing checked. 

“Actually you are a match for three.” 

Steve couldn’t keep the disbelief from his face. He had known his results wouldn’t be perfect but holy fuck he did not expect this. In the entirety of Erudite’s extensive knowledge and wisdom he hadn’t even heard of this happening. To switch from your former faction to another was one thing, but to have options was something entirely new. Joyce’s frown became deeper, pulling at the wrinkles in her skin. Judging by her reaction Steve could tell that his current situation couldn’t be altogether good.

“Steve you have to listen to me,” She spoke softly but quickly, tearing off a slip of paper and sliding it into his palm. “I’ll take care of your results, but you need to leave before anyone else comes in here.” He nodded, clutching the paper so hard that the two of them could hear the telltale sign of it crinkling in his grip. “Don’t tell anyone. You can’t trust them, not your friends, not your family. Nobody” 

She pushed him through a door he hadn’t entered and the outside looked eerily like the field in the test. He was alone, with only his anxiety and the piece of paper in his hand to watch him fall apart. He had never been all that good under pressure. 

The sound of the door slamming behind him sparked him into movement, and he was tearing through the field barely even thinking about where he was going, just knowing he had to get away. 

Steve wondered if behind him Tommy was finding out that he belonged in Erudite. Maybe there was a smug and stupid smirk playing on his face as he gets the results that confirm he’s better than everyone else. Maybe he was making fun of the person who gave him his test. Maybe he was shitting his pants, as whatever was in that vial ran through his body. He probably wasn’t running away from the entirety of his class with panicked eyes, and half baked explanations running through his head. Tommy probably knew what he was going to do. Steve had no fucking clue.

Steve looked up. He had stopped running, and was now panting with quick heaves that wracked his body. He found himself listening to the whir of slowly turning windmills above him. 

Finally, with only the sky as his witness, Steve looked at the paper in his hand. The wind stopped, and the blades above were motionless. 

Steve Harrington; Erudite  
Tested Positive:  
Dauntless, Amity, Abnegation  
Faction: Inconclusive, Test Subject shows symptoms of Divergence


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve makes his choice.

The two hours passed quickly in between the test and the ceremony. Steve’s parents hadn’t been expecting a call anyways, and so he simply sat against the cool metal of the windmills remembering Nancy and how she smelled like flowers, trying hard not to think about what he was supposed to do. 

When it became clear that the time was winding down to his impending doom Steve stood up, dusted off his pant legs and started walking towards the cathedral. 

He had only been to a ceremony once before. Usually only close family attended. It made it possible for them to get their last goodbyes in before their children ascended into their new lives. Steve, painfully an only child, with his important last name, and a specifically large donation from his parents that helped pay for new infrastructure was an exception to the ‘family only’ rule.

“It’s a chance for you to learn something Steven.” His father had said, Steve barely listening at the ripe age of eleven, while he let his mother strangle him into a tie. “Maybe you’ll get a taste of what the real world is like.” His father gestured for his mother to top off his champagne glass. 

By the time his father was drunk enough for him to get Steve’s name wrong several times they were ready to pile into a town car. Street lights at night were always something that enthralled Steve. He wondered what it would feel like to be floating through the roads, choking on wind and flooding with shadows like the pavement the lamps fell on. He imagined it would be a sort of suffocating that felt much more like relief than containment. Better than sweating in a car between his mother and father at the very least.

The cathedral was huge. Steve had never even seen it before and to say he was overwhelmed would be an understatement. Everyone around him was too small in comparison to the huge building.The windows were large and bare, it almost felt like they should be stained-glass or more intricate to be-fit such an impressive building. The doors on the other hand, lived up to every expectation Steve had. They were at least three times as tall as Steve and made of an oak that looked like it would take an army to move. 

All at once a large roucous arose. A train car filled with Dauntless boys and girls had arrived. Everyone was dressed head-to-toe in black. Some had tattoos lining their bodies while others had metal chains jutting out of their clothes. Most of them looked, for lack of a better word, badass. At the very front of them all was a particularly rambunctious boy. His hair was painted blue, something Steve had never seen before and he was wearing a leather jacket out of which Steve could see several sharp objects displayed, quite obviously. Steve was captivated. He found himself distracted with how the reflection in the cathedral windows glinted off the black metal in their noses and ears. He was quite certain that his mouth was hanging open and his eyes had blown to ridiculous proportions. 

It wasn't often that Steve found things beautiful. In his lifetime he had experienced white walls in plain buildings and an even more monotonous collection of events which boiled down to school, meetings, and fancy dinners. But here, in the foggy, ethereal reflection of the moon and stars that vibrated the very earth they landed on, the blue haired boy was immensely, unnaturally beautiful to Steve. He had never seen someone be so sure of themselves, so content with the horrors and miscalculations life had become. He was everything Steve wanted to be and more.

Steve glanced behind him to find his parents both now mediocrely tipsy tittering away with a pair of benefactors who looked equally as rich. They were no doubt engrossed in some boring discussion about the price of pearls or the latest product on the market. They had long since stopped trying to get Steve interested in these types of things, always finding him bored out of his mind by the time they had even formed a sentence. So, to avoid the embarrassment of a polite but begrudging “and what do you think little Steven?” and the even more embarrassing returning silence to whomever they had been addressing, they often left Steve to his own devices. Without thought, his eyes returned to the group of Dauntless teenagers and he found the blue haired boy looking at him with a delirious twinkle sparking on his face. Steve felt himself grow hot from his throat up. 

“Steven.” His father had apparently finished his discussion and was now letting the bubbles from the champagne take form in the curling of his fist. Finally noticing Steve’s distraction he laid a hand on the nape of his neck guiding him toward the door like a dog. “Let’s get away from these people.” He spat out, almost like he despised the fact that they were breathing the same air, the fact that they even could be called people. A few kids jeered at Steve’s dad, and one particularly brave girl raised her finger in a lewd gesture. Steve hoped he had concealed his huff of laughter well enough as his father’s fingers tightened. His father was never one to cause a scene, quiet and disgustingly dignified in front of the public. They reached the doors.

Steve spared himself one last look back at the boy who was now flicking a lighter in his hands. The boy winked.

The ceremony started out ridiculously boring. Steve had always found it hard to sit still and it was especially hard when the speeches about change and rebirth seemed to last forever. When a woman who was all grey and strict lines stepped up to the microphone, his attention shifted. The large, white bowls behind her became front and center. From left to right they held; glass for Candor, coals for Dauntless, soil for Amity, water for Erudite, and grey stones for Abnegation.

The first name left her lips and at once the entire audience seemed to go silent. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room and he wondered if the walls were closing in on them. He watched with bated breath as the girl, dubbed ‘Adrianne Cheny’ and wearing a dress that was similar in color to Steve’s shirt, picked up a knife. With little hesitation she sunk it into her skin and let her blood drip over hardened soil. She smiled brightly and headed over to the section that was shaking the room with the amplitude of its cheers. In that moment she had given up everything she had known. She had traded blue for yellow. Intelligence for Kindness. Some gear in him clicked. 

The crowd of Amity erupted into joyous cheers while his father shifted next to him muttering something degrading. Steve clapped.

Names continued to be called out, the crowd reacting appropriately to each choice until with a voice that Steve swore seemed louder than the previous, the woman requested for ‘Alex Taber’ to come to the stage. The blue haired boy from before stepped up. Unsurprisingly his blood fell onto the bowl of coals and with a roguish grin that blistered in confidence he stood, revelling in the yells from Dauntless. His father flipped through the program and yawned while Steve grinned. It was like nothing Steve had ever experienced. 

At the end of the night when his parents were talking about legislature and other things Steve didn’t understand with those who had stuck around for a ragtag sort of after party he snuck to the top floor of the building. From up here his parents looked tiny, and he feigned knocking them over with his pointer finger. 

“Your pop’s a dick, kid.” a voice sounded from behind him. The Dauntless boy who Steve now knew was named Alex stood a few feet away, now with a freshly scabbing cut on his hand.

Steve said nothing. He didn't think he could speak even if he wanted to. The other boy didn’t seem to care though. He sat down next to Steve, a leg hanging off of the banister in a pure display of nonchalance. “you got a brother or sister here?” Steve shook his head. “Ah, so you must be one of those old money families.” Alex laughed, looking warm. He was right, Steve had come from a long line of cash, most of it corrupt and bloodstained, but money all the same.

“Why are you up here?" Steve asked. “ Shouldn't you be with the rest of your faction?” His voice was soft, almost like it was unused to speaking as he addressed the Alex for the first time.

“I could ask you the same thing kid.” A grin played on Alex’s lips, “I like intermingling. Makes life more interesting.” It was silent for a bit. The boy was pretty and Steve liked the way his lips didn’t look as soft as the girls at school. Steve worked up the courage to ask what had been on his mind the entire night, “were you... scared? 

“Nah. I’m dauntless remember?” Steve looked down at the knives in his pocket. It was obvious where the other belonged which just made Steve feel more uneasy. Sighing and looking sympathetically at Steve's hesitant face Alex continued.

“Listen, you’ll just know. You’re going to get up there and one way or the other you're gonna make a choice. It all works out in the end.” Steve was barely aware that he was looking at Alex as if his life depended on every word that came out of his mouth, “besides, I gotta feeling you already know one faction you won’t be in.” Alex’s eyes trailed down to where Steve could make out his father calling for another drink. Funny, how within twenty minutes this stranger knew more about Steve than his own parents. 

With a grunt the older boy suddenly stood up and fished something out of his pocket. The shadows of the cathedral seemed darker and the air around Steve colder without his close proximity. “I’ll be seeing you later.” The boy grinned sharply. For some reason Steve had a feeling he was right. Alex tossed the object in his hand towards Steve.

It was the lighter he had been playing with earlier, small and metal. Steve flicked the wheel and watched as it ignited. He was playing with fire here, feeling dangerous and risky. With one small movement he could drop the lighter on the cathedral floor and watch it all burn down. He felt more like himself than he ever had.

Steve turned to say thankyou but just as quickly as he had appeared, the Dauntless boy was gone.

Steve walked forward as the same scene from when he was younger unfolded. A group of Dauntless kids parading out from a train car as others configured themselves in a weird, dysfunctional cluster. The cathedral looked just as big as it had when he was eleven. He fingered the edge of the paper in his pocket and walked through the oak doors. Inside, kids everywhere were trying to find their seats. Steve was dirty, his lip was scabbing over and he was ridiculously tired, but he had made it. All he had to do now was wait.

“Where’d you run off to Harrington?” His thoughts were interrupted by Tommy who had caught sight of Steve sneaking back into the bundle of Erudite teens. “Find somewhere to cry in peace before you leave daddy’s money?” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Nah I stopped by your mom’s house Tommy. She’s doing real well.” A few people around him laughed. Steve could feel the anger radiating off of Tommy and he relaxed. He knew how to deal with that emotion.

Before Tommy could think up a less than clever retort a voice echoed through the auditorium chambers asking the crowd to take a seat. Steve sat a safe distance away from Tommy, next to a sweet girl named Victoria who used to share her math homework with Steve.

HIgh heels were the only warning before the chancellor took her place in front of the audience. She was wearing grey, and the bleakness of her outfit matched the sharp line of her folded brow. The buzz of talking ceased. “Welcome to the choosing ceremonies,” her voice was just as clipped as Steve had remembered it being when he was eleven and as she spoke the world had started to become fuzzy, whether it was from exhaustion or anxiety Steve didn’t know. “The faction system is a living being-”

Across the room Steve caught sight of Nancy. She was staring at the stage with some sort of expression that seemed torn between acceptance and judgement.

“It can only survive and thrive with the help of you-”

“What are you gonna pick Steve.” Victoria whispered as if it wasn’t such a loaded question. Any other day he would have turned on his charm but for now he settled with a quiet shrug. She took the hint and leaned back into her seat. 

“The future belongs to those who know where they belong-”

“Hear that Stevie.” Tommy snickered from the row behind him. Steve felt like he was going to throw up.

“Faction before blood.” The chancellor finished. The room was getting smaller and Steve couldn’t help but remember the same cold, empty feeling he had felt during his aptitude test. He noticed his parents in the front row, his father nodding feverishly along with the chancellor's words.

“Rudy Atheart.” The first boy made his way to the stage. He picked up the knife, and sliced into the palm of his hand.  
“Candor” The chancellor announced. It was getting harder to breath.

“Robin Buckley” The redhead left her seat amidst hollers from her faction. She looked like she was skipping as she walked up to the front of the room. Blood sizzled over black coal with the deafening sound of finality. Steve felt himself becoming even more lightheaded, barely recognizing the names that were spilling from the chancellors mouth. 

“Jonathan Byers”  
“Abnegation.” 

Steve felt himself becoming even more lightheaded, barely recognizing the names that were spilling from the chancellors mouth. 

“Tom Hagan” Before he knew it Tommy was getting up from his seat, winking as each Erudite boy in his row cheered and slapped him on the back. Steve sucked at his still tender bottom lip. He had to be next.  
“Erudite.” 

“Steve Harrington.” He shook as he stood up. The piece of paper was the heaviest fucking thing he had ever put in his pocket and he could feel it like a heartbeat that was going too fast. By the time he reached the stage he was practically delirious, the lights from above him far too bright. The chancellor nodded at him as he passed. 

From here he could see the entirety of the crowd. There were too many people watching. He wondered if any of them could see through the fabric of his pocket and read the paper that condemned him.

He caught sight of his parents who gave him a cold, calculated look. He knew they were waiting, hoping for him to pick anywhere other than Erudite. At once the knife was in his hand. It felt similar to the one from the aptitude test and was almost a comforting weight. This was it.

He thought about the paper in his pocket. He thought of Nancy and her yellow dress. He thought about the lighter in his backpack. He thought of his future and imagined nothing but fire.

He took his glasses off with his uninjured hand and put them in his breast pocket. He slid the knife against his skin, reveling in the grounding spark of pain. His blood fell through the cracks of the hot coal.

He had always liked train rides better anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> this is definitely still a WIP not sure when I'll be updating next but probably soon! Feel free to shoot any ideas/criticism my way.


End file.
